


Héctor's worst secret

by Writerofthelorde



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Kisses, Sad with a Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-12 12:27:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13547319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writerofthelorde/pseuds/Writerofthelorde
Summary: Héctor has held in his secret for too long... it was making him too physically weak to hold it in any longer. When Imelda and him are finally alone one day, he tells her what happened.Note: This story happens a couple months after Miguel has left the land of the dead.





	Héctor's worst secret

**Author's Note:**

> Without too much of a spoiler I want to give a MAJOR warning. Please, please do not read this if you are sensitive. Héctor gets pretty damn graphic with his story. But I can assure you there will be NO rape, death or gore, but he does give a detailed explanation.
> 
> Please take care of yourselves. <3

It was a random Friday in the land of the dead. The Rivera family were for once scattered around town, all doing their own errands. Imelda was at home with Héctor; he wasn’t feeling well. Héctor had been hiding one of his darkest secrets for many, many years now, but it was only recently that it really started to bother him. Now, it bothered him so much it had made him sick. He felt weak and breathless and broken… he hadn’t felt that way in a long, long time. Even when he was almost forgotten he had felt better.  
  
Now that they were alone Héctor finally came to terms with telling his wife about something that happened when he was still a child. Something that, even through their deepest love, he had never dared to admit.  
  
“I-Imelda.” He hesitated. He knew he had to tell her, but he was, quite frankly, absolutely terrified.  
  
Imelda looked up at him with an expression that told him to continue. “There’s something I need to tell you.” He admitted. Imelda was immediately concerned and sat down next to him on the couch.  
  
“Are you okay?” She asked worried. “Is something wrong?” Her eyes scanned his body, but she couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary.  
  
Héctor smiled at her concern and for a moment reached out to touch her cheek. Before he reached her cheek though, he had pulled back his hand again in hesitation. Imelda picked up his hand and put it on her cheek, leaning into the touch. Héctor caressed her cheek gently and then sadly dropped his hand.  
  
“It’s not about this…” He gestured to his weakened self. “Well actually, it is.” He corrected himself after a moment of thought.  
  
Imelda moved in closer and took ahold of his hand again. “Whatever it is that you want to tell me, I’m here for you; you can tell me anything.”  
  
Héctor could feel himself chocking up and he gritted his teeth angrily. He was angry with himself for already getting emotional. How could he possibly tell her if he’d already start crying before even getting started on his story?  
  
“I’m afraid it will hurt you…” Héctor admitted softly. “…and make you distrust me.”  
  
He probably shouldn’t have said that. This would definitely make her think of things that were the absolute furthest away from the truth. Yet he felt like he had to say it, because he was truly scared of that happening. He had kept this secret inside for so long he felt like it might be too late to tell her now. Through all the years that they were friends, and then dating and then married, he had never found the courage to tell her.  
  
“Mi amor…” Imelda started. “let me be the judge of that.” She told him softy, cupping his cheek as she smiled sadly at him. She could see in his eyes… in his body… in his everything, that whatever it was, it was eating him away.  
  
“Before you start…” She spoke softly, placing her other hand on his other cheek. “…let me kiss you.”  
  
Héctor was surprised she would say this, and even want this, but he let her pull him in without a single sound or complaint.  
  
She pulled him in carefully, knowing very well how weak he was, and gently kissed him. She lingered, feeling Héctor’s sadness radiate out of every single bone he had. She backed off for a millisecond and then softly kissed him again. Her eyes were closed, completely at ease with the man she loved.  
  
Héctor’s eyes were open, he seemed too sad to be able to close them and concentrate on the kiss. What he noticed though, was that Imelda, though seemingly impossible, looked _even more_ beautiful with her face so relaxed like this.  
  
When she backed off she found her lipstick had stained his mouth, but she liked the idea of having claimed him like that, and so she left it on there. She remembered doing that when they were still young and alive; she used to love kissing him with lipstick on and then not telling him about it. She used to love seeing other people’s reactions to the lipstick on his face.  
  
First they’d be confused, and slightly disgusted by the horrible smudgy tint staining his mouth area, then they’d look to her and realise it was the same shade. The look of realisation would have been enough for her to enjoy it, but people’s reactions after realising were great too.  
  
The girls generally didn’t understand why she would choose the poor, strange, loud boy who had nothing to offer her. The boys didn’t understand either, but they’d be more angry about it. They’d be jealous even; why him and not any of them? The girls seemed to be more worried for her, thinking she maybe didn’t have a choice at all.  
  
To the ones with the strongest reactions, she’d have a perfectly strong reaction in reply; she’d sweep Héctor off his feet and kiss him deeply in front of everyone.  
  
Imelda had to slightly shake her head to wake herself up from her memory. She laughed softly when she noticed the look on Héctor’s face.  
  
“Remember when I used to kiss you with lipstick on and I’d leave all the marks on you on purpose.” She said with a mischievous grin. She felt a little bit angry with herself for just blurting that out without a thought to it; he was totally going to clean his face up now.  
  
Héctor though, could see that just by the look in her eyes. He smiled gently and leant in for a quick peck. “I do remember” He told her. “I loved every second of it.”  
  
He quickly sat back down, after feeling himself weakening. He sighed out frustratedly. He had just been happy about the distraction she had given him and now he just had to be reminded of this terrifying thing he had to do. He closed his eyes tightly and sighed.  
  
Imelda leant in and kissed his temple. “It’s okay. Take your time. If you want to talk about other things first then we can do that.” She told him kindly. “We’ll be alone for another couple of hours.”  
  
“I… I just don’t know how to start.” He admitted.  
  
Imelda leant over and placed her hands over his. “How about I make you some nice hot coffee and then we’ll just sit down and see if the words follow?” She offered.  
  
Héctor smiled sadly. “How did I ever survive without you.” He said, before quickly kissing her.  
  
“You didn’t.” She reminded him jokingly. She felt bad immediately after she said it. That was not funny. “I’m sorry.” She quickly said. “That wasn’t funny at all, that was mean of me, I’m sorry.”  
  
Héctor just smiled and pulled her into another kiss. He didn’t let go of her immediately; he lingered on her lips, not wanting her to move away. When he did let go Imelda didn’t pull away either. She lingered for a few more seconds and then backed off with hooded eyelids and a sly smile.  
  
Héctor caressed her cheek. “It’s okay, it’s almost been a hundred years. I think we should be able to joke about it now.” He said.  
  
Imelda was relieved, but she didn’t say a word.  
  
After a moment of waiting she got up and walked into the kitchen to make some coffee for the both of them.  
  
“Um…” Imelda called out from the kitchen. “Do you still drink your coffee the same way?” She asked awkwardly, realising she hadn’t yet made him coffee since he started living with the family.  
  
“I still drink my coffee out of a mug, yeah.” Héctor replied in a heartbeat. No matter how sad or how nervous he was, he could always muster a bad joke. Imelda didn’t reply, but it was as if he could hear her roll her eyes at him. “And uhh.. yes. I do.” He said back in the general direction of the kitchen.  
  
When she came back with two mugs of steaming hot coffee she found her husband frowning and staring at something on the floor. She followed his gaze, but found nothing; just the leg of one of the chairs they had. She guessed he was just staring off into the distance.  
  
She put the coffee down and sat down next to him. She placed both her hands on top of his knees and looked at him worriedly. “What’s bothering you my dear?” She felt sad for him; he was clearly suffering from not telling her, yet at the same time suffering from having to tell her.  
  
“You know, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” She leant over and kissed the highest part of his cheekbone.  
  
“No I do.” Héctor replied, slowly turning to her. “I do have to tell you. It’s… it’s breaking me… literally..” He gestured to his weakened body once more and then sighed.  
  
Imelda reached over to the table and grabbed a tissue. “As much as I love seeing my lipstick all over you.. I’m afraid I might have trouble taking you seriously if we keep it on there. She gently wiped her lipstick marks off his temple first, then his cheekbone, and then moved down to his mouth. As she was cleaning it she saw the look on Héctor’s face; he was mesmerised by her focussed gaze.  
  
She couldn’t help but kiss him again really shortly, and then quickly went on to clean the new mark with a giggle. When she was done she put the tissue on the table and handed Héctor his coffee.  
  
She sat back with her own coffee and they drank it in silence. When a couple minutes later both of them had silently finished their coffee Héctor breathed in deeply.  
  
“When I was eleven years old…” He started, just trying to get it over with. Imelda leant back and settled down. She gave him a little nod to encourage him to continue.  
  
“When I was eleven something happened to me… something that I’ve carried with me for the rest of my life… and in death…” He closed his eyes tightly, trying to focus on the words instead of the feelings it brought up.  
  
“There was a man… he knocked on the door and I was the one who opened, because my mamá was upstairs…” he continued after swallowing harshly.  
  
Imelda held her breath.  
  
“That man…” Héctor gritted his teeth. “…he told me that he was asking everyone in Santa Cecilia the same questions and he wondered if I could help him out too… and I was young so I said yeah sure..!” He closed his eyes tightly, trying to stop the tears from falling out, but instead that just gave them the final push they needed to leave his eyes.  
  
“He started with normal questions… What is your name, what is your age, were you born here…” Héctor summed up the first few questions he remembered. “Then they started gettingslightly stranger… Are you home alone? Where do you go to school?” Héctor couldn’t look at Imelda. He was too afraid of the expressions she might be pulling and especially afraid of the look in her eyes.  
  
“Then he looked around, as if the check if anyone was there to hear him, and asked me… if I had public hair, if I ever got turned on, and if so what did that feel like, if I had ever touched myself, if I’d ever fantasised about someone else touching me…”  
  
Imelda had her eyes closed tightly, she couldn’t look at the broken face of her husband.  
  
“I-I don’t know why… but I answered every single question… I knew it felt wrong and I knew that every fibre of me told me to close the door and run away, but I didn’t…” He let out a loud sob that surprised the both of them.  
  
“I don’t know why… I still, all these years later, don’t understand why I just answered all the questions… it was like I was hypnotised.. every fibre of me knew not to answer, knew that I had to slam the door in his face and get away from him, but I just stood there… frozen… and I answered truthfully… It felt like I didn’t have any other choice…” He angrily wiped the tears off his face.  
  
“He asked me more… but then a few minutes later my mom ran down the stairs and shoved me aside, before slamming the door closed. She dragged me away from the door by my ear and yelled at me for what felt like hours.. about how I should have never answered any of his questions, how men like him were bad and not to be trusted, but I just sat there… all shocked, seemingly only then fully realising what had been happening. My mamá was furious with me. She yelled about everything that could’ve gone wrong and then ended with, _at least nothing happened_.” He fiddled with his fingers.  
  
“It didn’t feel like that to me… it didn’t feel like nothing had happened… I spent the rest of the day feeling numb and gross. That night I had a nightmare about him… r-doing things to me…” He couldn’t get the word out of his mouth. He knew he had to say it at some point but… he didn’t dare to.  
  
“When I woke up after the nightmare I panicked, because it felt like it had actually happened… the dream was so vivid, so… hyper realistic, that after waking up I couldn’t believe that it was just a nightmare… I could still feel his hands on me… I had an anxiety attack on the spot… nobody heard me or came to check on me… I didn’t sleep for the rest of the night.”  
  
Imelda wanted to say something, wanted to be there for him so desperately, but she didn’t know what to say. Héctor looked like he had more to say and so she didn’t move either, and just waited for him to continue.  
  
“After having that same nightmare, and that same anxiety attack every night for a week I decided to tell my mamá about it. She proceeded to tell me that I was acting like baby for being bothered by it and for _giving myself_ nightmares… she told me I was weak for _letting_ it get to me… Like I was doing all of that to myself.. on purpose..” He looked up at the ceiling, trying to prevent the inevitable sob that was crawling its way up.  
  
After a couple of seconds he gave up and let the sob out. “She told me it didn’t matter what he had done, or how he had made me feel, because I _chose_ for myself to answer his questions… she told me I wasn’t allowed to let it bother me, because other people had it worse.”  
  
“Héctor…” Imelda whispered for the first time since Héctor had started his story. “You know that’s not true, right?” She felt terrible and.. heartbroken. She leant forwards and pressed her forehead against his shoulder. Héctor leant over and kissed her hair, before breathing in shakily.  
  
“I…” He continued. Imelda looked back up, frowning heavily because she had thought that was the end of the story.  
  
“I… still had that nightmare every night, for months… but because my mamá told me I was weak for letting it bother me… I didn’t tell her about it… or anyone else for that matter…”  
  
Héctor was silent for a second, breathing in deeply and shakily.  
  
“He reached out to me after a couple weeks… he told me that he’d- that he- he promised that he would-” Héctor chocked on his words and his tears, and sobbed into his hands loudly. “He promised me that he’d wait for me close to my house, since he knew where I lived… he said he’d wait for me every single day and he would… make my nightmares come true…”  
  
Imelda reached out and hugged him in a heartbeat. Héctor crumbled in her arms.  
  
“I believed him, because he knew everything… he knew my name and my face and where I lived and what I looked like underneath my clothes… I was terrified to leave the house… My mamá didn’t understand why I would leave the house at the very last moment to run to school instead of taking my time and enjoying the morning breeze like I used to… I never told her about that…” He sniffled and felt himself slipping further into Imelda’s grip, no longer having any strength to hold himself together.  
  
“…She thought I was weak, because nothing ever happened… She said they were just words and no deeds so I was piteous for allowing it to bother me and for creating nightmares for myself. Like I had done any of that myself or on purpose…” He huffed angrily.  
  
Imelda held onto him a little tighter.  
  
“He never did anything… but I was terrified to leave the house every day… and I had the same life-like nightmares every night still…”  
  
He was silent, neither of them daring to say another word for a full minute.  
  
“…I met him in the plaza a couple months later… I was 12 by then.. I was walking there with Ernesto and he was standing there between the market stalls and started the same way as he did that first day… He was holding a survey.. he was asking everyone in Santa Cecilia the same questions… if we could just follow him to someplace less noisy he could ask the questions in peace…” He pulled a disgusted face at the memory.  
  
“He didn’t seem to recognise me, but I recognised him immediately and I was frozen in the middle of the street. I guess my face showed it, because when he looked away from Ernesto and over to me, his face changed to a disgusting  smirk and he got this twinkle in his eyes.” Héctor shuddered violently. Imelda held on tighter instinctively.  
  
“When I finally found the ability to move I ran away as fast as I could and pulled Ernesto with me.  
  
When I stopped running Ernesto yelled at me. He was pissed at me for just ignoring the man and then suddenly running away. He told me I was rude. When I had a panic attack right in front of him he calmed down. I told him what had happened and all he did was tell me how he didn’t know what to say… We never mentioned it after that… not that day, not any day after…” Héctor moved away from Imelda’s hug and wiped his face on his sleeve.  
  
“I never saw him again after that… He never actually… did what he promised but…” Héctor shuddered once more. “I had the same nightmare every single night for four years…”  
  
Imelda pulled him in again and pressed his face in the crook of her neck, but Héctor pulled away immediately. “wait, I’m not done yet.”  
  
Imelda’s heart sank even further. “There’s more…?” She whispered in shock.  
  
“Well, it’s not entirely the same thing, but it’s related…” He admitted with a tired laugh. Finally admitting something that he had been holding inside for so many years was _exhausting_.  
  
“I.. When you have the same, or at least a very similar kind of dream, that feels very realistic, every night for so long… you start to doubt it… in the sense that… I started doubting if it was a dream.. or a memory that was haunting me… The nightmares were so real, and felt so much like they had actually happened, that I couldn’t decide anymore… The feeling of his hands on me… it was like a memory, because I knew the feeling so well and it had always felt so real…” He sighed deeply and finally seemed to be all out of tears.  
  
“For a few months I was tormented by the thought that they were memories instead of nightmares… Tormented to the point where I…. I was suicidal…”  
  
Imelda closed her eyes so tightly she started seeing things move behind her eyelids.  
  
“I uhh… I still don’t know how, but my parents found out… They yelled at me for what felt like hours… After ages of yelling they demanded I explain myself, but when I told them I was deeply unhappy they told me that I was lying. They demanded an explanation and so I finally, after all those years, got myself to tell them the whole story… except that I couldn’t get myself to say the words, so instead I wrote it down for them…” His hands started to shake as he remembered being in tears and shaking as he wrote down his reason.  
  
“I gave it to my papá and he and my mamá read it together. I had written down that the man at the door back then, had found me again… My papá looked extremely confused and asked us, _what man?_ My mom shrugged and said, _‘oh it’s nothing, it’s just some guy who asked him if he masturbated when he was like thirteen.._ ” Héctor had to pause for a moment; still so full of rage and complete destruction. “She didn’t even remember how old I was when it happened…! I was eleven! Not Thirteen! And it was not nothing..!” He couldn’t shake the anger to this day.  
  
“My dad had shrugged and refolded the piece of paper. He handed it to my mom and she tore it into pieces. They looked at each other and nodded. My mom looked back at me and told me, _We know you better than you know yourself and you’re not suicidal at all._ And with that she stood up and tossed the paper in the trash. My dad immediately left too…”  
  
Héctor finally found the courage to look his wife in the eye. “I spent the rest of the day in my room crying and wishing I was dead so much more than before…”  
  
He could see the heartbreak in her eyes. Her look alone was enough but if it hadn’t been, the devastating expression on her face would have been.  
  
“It took me some months, some… very lonely months… but I got out of that and I then only had the nightmare every couple nights and I was really starting to go uphill and started feeling better…”   
  
He fumbled with his fingers.  
  
“You… you are the reason I got better… You literally saved my life, Imelda.” He looked away as he said this. He just couldn’t see that broken look in her eyes any longer.  
  
“It was you and music… at first I thought it was mostly music, but by god was I wrong..! You saved me so much more and so much better and god Imelda I’m so sorry I know I’m not the man you thought I was… from the very beginning even..! At first I was too scared, thinking that telling you was going to make you run away, but then when I thought that maybe you wouldn’t, I got scared that telling you this story would hurt you and I never wanted to hurt you and I held it in and it became too much and I left because writing music and playing music had always felt like a relieve, but dios mio it lead to making the biggest mistake of my life and-”  
  
Imelda cut him off roughly by grabbing his face and forcefully pulling him down to hers. She kissed him passionately and desperately, and just over and over. she didn’t know what else to do. All she could think of was to kiss him and show him how much she loved him.  
  
Héctor tried to back off, but she didn’t let him. She moved closer to him and changed her desperate kisses to more gentle, yet still persistent kisses.  
  
“Imeld-” Héctor tried, but Imelda just immediately shushed him and kissed him some more. She could feel him smiling against her lips and so she knew she was doing no harm.  
  
“I-Imelda.” He tried again. “Shh my love, just let me kiss you.” She whispered, slowing her kisses down to be even more gentle, but she amped up the speed. They were more like butterfly kisses at this point. Really fast butterfly kisses.  
  
“Imelda.” He mumbled in between the soft, tiny kisses. He couldn’t say he didn’t enjoy them, and he knew she meant well, but he just needed to look at her after finally letting this all out. Imelda in return just started to linger her kisses a little bit more. Héctor giggled at her and this is when she finally backed off. The genuine giggle made her smile up at him.  
  
Héctor smiled back at her, for a moment just simply forgetting all his worries and sorrows. “I love you so much.” He said with a short burst of a laugh.  
  
Imelda leant in slowly and very softly pressed a kiss to his mouth. “I love you too, Héctor.” She made sure to say his name, knowing that he will hear her say those words in his head for the next few… years probably.  
  
Then, she backed off and looked into his eyes. “I a-am so sorry.” She said sternly as she was chocking back new tears.  
  
“you don’t feel like you mistrusted me?” Héctor asked sounding small.  
  
“No, of course not.” Imelda replied in a heartbeat. She reached out and cupped his cheek. “I understand that you can’t just tell someone something like that. Especially since you hadn’t really told anyone yet and the people who you did confide in proved to be garbage.”  
  
She sighed angrily. “But I won’t be garbage. I- I’ll try not to be garbage and if I am I want you to tell me.” She said sternly, trying to push away the anger she felt for all the people who had hurt him.  
  
Héctor smiled at her. “How did I ever become so lucky? To have you.. as my girlfriend, as my wife, as the mother of our child, it’s the best thing that ever happened to me.” He couldn’t believe it; how could she have such a great reaction? He felt like he had been lying to her since the very beginning, and yet here she was smiling at him and kissing him and telling him she loved him. It was all he ever wanted.  
  
“Héctor, I love you so much.” She told him as she held his face with both her hands and looked him sternly in the eye.  
  
“I love you so much more.” Héctor replied emotionally.  
  
Imelda huffed and rolled her eyes. “That’s not even possible. I already love you _most_.”  
  
Héctor smiled widely. He looked down at her mouth and he didn’t have to say a word; Imelda was already leaning in a kissing him. She kissed him softly and gently and slowly. No one was going to be home for another few hours and so she just sat down and allowed herself to enjoy a slow tender kiss with him.  
  
When she backed off she looked at him sadly. “I’m so sorry this happened to you… I… I honestly have no idea what to say or what to do to help you, but if I think of something I will let you know, and if you think of something I can do, please let me know too, okay?” She asked determined.  
  
“Of course, mi amor.” He promised her.  
  
It all made sense now, Imelda thought. The way he always wanted to spend every second of every day with her. How he had never wanted to talk about his family, and never wanted her to meet them. He had seemed almost over eager to moving in with her and her family and when she asked him to marry her he had immediately started setting it all up, the same day that she had asked him. It had made her laugh at the time, but in hind side it just made her sad.  
  
It was as if Héctor could read her mind, because the next words he said were about the exact thought she just had.  
  
“I didn’t just work so fast because I wanted to get away from them, you know. I worked to fast on our wedding because I couldn’t wait to be married to you. I couldn’t wait to be able to call you my wife. I couldn’t wait to tell everyone that I was your husband. To be able to  
introduce the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on, as my wife. I couldn’t wait to see you in an even prettier dress than any of the beautiful dresses you wore every day.  
  
I couldn’t wait to start our lives together and to start that big family we always dreamt of. I couldn’t wait to be able to hold your hand everywhere and to be able to kiss you wherever and whenever. I couldn-”  
  
“Shh.” Imelda cut him off with her mouth close to his. “You don’t have to prove yourself to me.” It seemed like the simplest thing to say, but to Héctor it felt like a blessing, a promise and a declaration all at once.  
  
“I… I don’t know what to say.” He knew he had told her he loved her plenty times today, and he told himself he knew that she loved him back. He told himself she knew that he meant it honestly, and with all his heart.  
  
Without kissing him again, Imelda backed off.  
  
“In the light of this conversation… I have to tell you something too.” She started.  
  
Héctor straightened and looked at her all concerned.  
  
“When I was in school I had a teacher one year who was… vastly inappropriate. I was 14, I had him as a teacher for the whole year.” She looked down at her hands, feeling the disgust she felt back then.  
  
“He would always comment on me specifically. None of the other girls in class. He would always complain about my shoulders being too visible, too sexy. He’d always look at the class and then when he reached me would freeze and sigh and either say nothing and grasp his bible tightly, holding it in front of his crotch…” She shuddered at the thought.  
  
“…or he’d tell me to cover up, to change my dress, to let my hair down so it would cover my neckline, and more things like that…” She looked over to Héctor and shrugged helplessly.  
  
Héctor had an angry expression on his face and Imelda felt like her heart started racing, even though she no longer had a physical heart..  
  
“Of course, I know that it’s nothing compared to what happened to you, but I just wanted to tell you, because I never really told anyone except my mom and another teacher, and the teacher just told me that I must’ve mistaken his actions and that I was wrong.. and my mom told me that that’s just what happens to women in this world…” She sighed for a moment.  
  
“But I know it’s nothing compared to your story and your struggles I just thought I’d tell you becau-.”  
  
“Imelda.” Héctor cut her off this time. “Listen to yourself. Didn’t we just establish that whether or not someone else’s situation is worse, doesn’t matter?” He leant over and cupped her cheek with one hand, Imelda leant into the touch.  
  
“The whole point isn’t that someone else’s situation is worse, it’s about it being a bad situation to begin with. We shouldn’t compare our own suffering to others. That way we’ll never allow ourselves to truly move on and to heal. I might have believed what my mom said back then, and you might have believed what _your_ mom said back then…  
  
…but we no longer do. We know now that there will always be someone who’s had it worse than you. And just because they had it worse, doesn’t mean that the small things aren’t allowed to cause suffering. The big things wouldn’t be as extreme if the small things didn’t hurt to begin with. Big things don’t become big without the small things hurting first.”  
  
He caressed his thumb over her cheekbone and in a flash leant in and kissed her forehead.  
  
“…You don’t tell a wounded animal that their pain doesn’t matter, because others had it worse.. because others got killed, unlike them, oh no, they only _almost_ got killed. They only felt the threat, the discomfort, the fear, the pain from the wound. The scars after the wound has healed even. You don’t tell them those things don’t matter, because another animals had it _worse_.. All forms of pain are valid. No matter the size.”  
  
He finished his inspirational rant with a nod of his head and a small peck on the area where Imelda’s nose used to be.  
  
She sniffled. “I never knew I needed that.” She admitted.  
  
Héctor smiled at her. “I never knew I needed you until I met you.”  
  
Imelda rolled her eyes and snorted. “You’re such a hopeless romantic.”  
  
Héctor raised his head and looked her up and down, as if checking her out, and though Imelda would never admit it, it sent a shiver down her spine. “I prefer to say _hopeful_ romantic.” He told her with a wink.  
  
She huffed in reply, secretly using it to conceal another shiver. “Yeah like that makes it any better.”  
  
Héctor leant closer to her, feeling his strength coming back to him. “You know you love it.” He said as he wiggled the place where his eyebrows used to be.  
  
Imelda huffed and tried to shove him away, but her shove was too gentle to move Héctor. She hadn’t realised he was regaining his strength up until just now.  
  
Héctor leant over to where her ear used to be. “Don’t think I didn’t see that shiver a moment ago.” He whispered with his mouth hovering over her skull.  
  
Imelda’s cheeks started to glow. “O-only one?” She tried to ask nonchalantly.  
  
Héctor backed off surprised. “There were more?” He asked with a hand on his chest.  
  
Imelda took ahold of both his suspenders and pulled him back towards herself. “Don’t act like you don’t know the effect you have on me.” She whispered when their faces were close.  
  
“We’ve been doing this…” She looked down at the two of them and then gave him a quick kiss after looking back up; as if to explain what she meant. “… for months now.”  
  
Héctor looked at her completely flabbergasted.  
  
“You really don’t know how much I yearn for you?” She looked from eye to eye in disbelieve, not being able to focus.  
  
“You hated me for years…” Héctor replied slowly, but upon realising how that sounded he quickly rambled out the rest of his reply. “…and not that that’s bad or anything, I don’t care about that. At all. I promise. I just really need.. I’m just gonna need a little bit longer to build that confidence back up. I just need some time to gain enough faith in myself to believe that when you say it.” He rambled stressfully.  
  
Imelda felt bad and absentmindedly changed her position. Héctor backed off and went on to sit differently too.  
  
“I’m sorry.” Imelda whispered sadly.  
  
“Imelda…” Héctor sighed. He moved over and pressed their foreheads together. “how many times must I tell you to stop apologising?”  
  
Imelda closed her eyes. “At least once more, as always.” She whispered truthfully.  
  
Héctor held onto her face with both his hands and pressed the softest kiss he could possibly muster onto her lips. After he was finally done lingering on her lips he went back to pressing their foreheads together.  
  
“You don’t have to keep telling me you’re sorry. You don’t have to keep telling me you’re sorry.” He repeated it at least thirty times. Imelda was silent the whole time.  
  
He slowly opened his eyes and met Imelda’s after she opened hers. “I love you, Imelda. Always.” He told her firmly.  
  
“I love you too, Héctor.” She wanted to add the ‘always’ just like her husband had, but even though she knew it was true, she thought her esposo wouldn’t believe her if she said it.  
  
“…and I’m glad to see you’re getting stronger already.” She told him, changing the subject so he wouldn’t ask her about it. “I know I never really gave you a proper reply to everything you just told me and I’m sorry about that, but I just wasn’t sure of what to say, but now I am.” She told him determined, her eyes kind, but her lips in a tight line.  
  
“I am sorry all of these things happened to you. I am so sorry that you weren’t taken seriously. I am so, so sorry that the people you confided it only hurt you and made it worse. I am so, so, _so_ sorry that you had to go through everything alone. You never deserved for any of that to happen…  
  
…You deserved, and still deserve people who love you, and care about you, and who will be there for you when you need them. Always. It breaks my heart to hear how much others have hurt you and it breaks my heart even more to see, and to know, that all that suffering only made you kind. I am so, so, _utterly_ proud of you for fighting every day, and for fighting your way through everything. And to think that you had to do all of that alone…”  
  
Imelda broke at the thought and tears started streaming down her face. It wasn’t until then that she realised Héctor was crying too. She reached out and and touched his face, before kissing him desperately.  
  
She backed off and continued.  
  
“I can’t think of a single person who’s stronger than you were _and_ are. I am so incredibly proud of you for fighting for yourself and for a happy life, and I am so incredibly honoured to have been and to be your happy place. Words can’t describe how happy it makes me to see you happy and to know that I helped a little bit in that, without even realising. I can’t even begin to understand how much it hurt for you to hold all of that in… especially for so long… and I am so…”  
  
She pressed their foreheads together forcefully.  
  
“… _so extremely proud_ of you for having the courage and the strength to tell me. Thank you, Héctor, mi amor. I love you with all my heart.”

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think, but be kind please. I wrote this story for my friend to help them move on from their trauma, and if you're going to be negative to them it's just not cool man. Thanks <3


End file.
